Beautiful Angels
by H.R.C. Stanley
Summary: Twilight AU - Isabella Swan has lived over a hundred years, resenting her family and vampiric curse, but soon finds a light in the darkness of her soul in the form of Angela Weber. But as she senses hope, she also feels a dark desire within, to feed and turn the young girl like herself. Can she resist her lust for the young mortal girl, or become the very monster she fears...?
1. Prologue

_**Beautiful Angels**_

A _Twilight_ fanfiction

By H.R.C. Stanley

* * *

 **Prologue**

* * *

 _My name is Isabella Marie Swan, but many simply call me Bella. I was born on the 9th day of April 1890, under the same wretched curse that my family suffered,_ _to be burnt from exposure to the direct rays of the sun,_ _to forever thrive on the blood and flesh of pure mortal creatures, and live longer and age slower than that of such people._

 _However, the only thing I wanted more than a cure for this plague, is a companion; Ever since my 96th birthday, I've been seeking for someone to be my own mate, someone who would bring light to my broken and corrupted soul, someone to be my one and only lover.  
_

 _For many decades, I would walk the immortal earth, even after my father fell under the mercilessness of the morning sunlight, travelling from place to place with my mother like nomads. Time and time again, I would search for that one for me, be it vampire or mortal, only to be rejected every chance I got, at least until now...  
_

* * *

 _To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 1

**_Beautiful Angels_**

A _Twilight_ fanfiction

By H.R.C. Stanley

* * *

 _ **"But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die..."  
**_ _ **Genesis 2:17**_

* * *

 **Chapter One**

* * *

 _Through most of her young mortal life, Angela Weber never gave too much thought to how she would die - though she'd had reason enough in the last few months - but even if she had, she wouldn't have imagined it like this._

 _She stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark eyes of the huntress, and she looked pleasantly back at her._ _Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone she loved. Noble, even. That ought to count for something._

 _She knew that if she'd never gone to Forks, she wouldn't be facing death now. But, terrified as she was, she couldn't bring herself to regret the decision. When life offers a dream so far beyond any boundaries of expectation, it wouldn't be reasonable enough to grieve once it comes to an end._

 _The huntress smiled in a friendly way as she sauntered forward to kill her..._

* * *

In the backseat of a white saloon, a young dark-brunette girl of 18 years stared through stylised glasses and out the rolled down windows. A wave of cool breeze blew at her gentle face under the perfect and cloudless blue sky as the familiar buildings and palm trees passed by, almost as a gesture of farewell gesture.

Somewhere in the deep northwestern side of the State of Washington, a small town named Forks had existed for years under a near-constant and thick velvet of gloomy grey clouds. It rained on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United State. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that her father escaped with her when she was only a few months old. It was in this town that she'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until she turned fifteen in the Autumn of 2005. That was the year she finally put her foot down; the past three years since, she and her mother vacationed in the city she was born.

It was to Forks that she was forced to exile myself- an action that she took with great horror and regret. She detested Forks, and loved Pasadena. She loved the sun and the blistering heat. She even loved the vigorous, sprawling city of Los Angeles.

Soon enough, the car found its way before the doors of the Hollywood Burbank Airport.

"Angela," the older woman behind the wheel broke the silence, glimpsing at the mirror. "You don't have to do this."

The shy young girl, identified as Angela, was sent into a quick state of surprise, before relaxing and exhaling at the statement.

"I want to go, mum," the teenager lied. She'd always been a bad liar, but she'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing by now.

She grabbed hold of her rucksack and barrel bag, opened the door and slipped out on a whim.

"Tell him I said hi,"

"Will do,"

"I'll see you soon," the mother insisted. "You can come home whenever you want; just give a call and I'll come right back as soon as you need me."

Angela could easily see the sacrifice in her mother's eyes behind the promise.

"Don't worry about me," Angela urged. "It'll be fine. I love you, mum."

She sent one last kiss to her mother's forehead, and before she knew it, the car drove away into the distance and she turned to the automatic doors and walked into the airport.

The flight itself from Pasadena to Seattle was only about four hours at least, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then yet one more drive back down to Forks. Flying never bothered her; the hour in the car with her own father, though, had her a little bit worried.

By the time she made it to Port Angeles, it was already drenched in a think torrent of blazing rain. Pulling up her woolly hoodie, she didn't see it as an omen, be it good or bad, just inevitable. She already said her farewells to the Californian sun. Squinting through the collecting droplets, she spotted the familiar aged face of her birth father waiting for her, standing by a black compact car. Wiping away the rainwater from her glasses, Angela showed no surprise in her otherwise modest face.

He had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that his daughter was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten her registered for high school and was going to help her get a car. But nonetheless, she knew it was would be bound to be awkward meeting her father again, and having spend more time with him. She just didn't know what there was to say without being completely honest. She knew he was more than a little confused by her decision like her mother before her.

After what seemed like an infinite moment of staring, she rushed to her father, who opened his arms and pulled her into an awkward embrace.

"It's good to see you, Angela," he said with a natural smile. "You haven't changed much. How's your mother?"

"Mum's fine," Angela answered, trying to pull off a genuine grin of her own. "It's good to see you too, dad."

"Good seeing you too after all these years, let me get those bags for you."

She took off her luggage and lent them over to him before he opened up the boot, easily stuffed them in and slammed it shut. Afterwards, they opened their doors and sat onto the front seats.

"I think I may've found a good car for you, really cheap," he announced once they were strapped in and he turned on the ignition.

* * *

 _To be continued..._


End file.
